


A Bird in The Bush

by KAKameron



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Action & Romance, Drama, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, broken relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAKameron/pseuds/KAKameron
Summary: Dick Grayson is stalked by the ghosts of his past while sequestered in Blüdhaven, but when what seems like a typical confrontation with Poison Ivy takes a turn for the worst, he is forced to confront long buried feelings and an old flame.What happens to a love deferred?  And what else does Poison Ivy have in store for the former boy wonder?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sofia_gigante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofia_gigante/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Helpless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508322) by [sofia_gigante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofia_gigante/pseuds/sofia_gigante). 



> Sofia Gigante's Dark Knight, Bright Son series woke up the writer in me again, and this is just the smallest way I can thank them. You brought an entire universe back to life for me, and I hope you don't mind that I play a little bit longer in this world that you built. This and any further works in this vein are a tribute to you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> I will say that though the roots of this world is from Sofia, this is an entirely separate work. I've tried to tie together the greatly divergent realities of Teen Titans and Young Justice in one frankenstonian place whose landscape I hope to share with you. I hope that you enjoy this, and please please let me know what you think. 
> 
> p.s. You'll see a reference of Dark Knight, Bright Son, but in respect, I want to try and keep them at a minimum.

Talcum powder hung in the air as the spotlight hit John Grayson atop a platform 35 feet above the circus floor, his shining leotard stretched across his muscled frame, his arms lifted above his shoulders in a presentational salutation as he smiled for the crowd.

**AND NOW THIS EVENING’S MAIN EVENT, PRESENTED BY HALEY’S CIRCUS, BROUGHT TO YOU BY OUR GENEROUS SPONSORS AT WAYNE ENTERPRISES, THE FANTASTIC, THE AMAZING, DEATH DEFYING FLYING GRAYSONS!**

There was a swelling roar that filled the atmosphere high above, it felt like electric, like static energy running through your hands. From Mary’s vantage point, from across the ring, it was as if her husband was transformed into some mystical being. All golden and beautiful, John bestowed the gift of his presence as he waved- firing up the circus goers into a frenzy. The cacophony was almost deafening. His wide shoulders, that magnificent smile- eyes of an eagle. It would make anyone weak in the knees. He stood at the edge of the precipice, his legs tense, knees slightly bent as he silently prepped himself. 15 years she had loved this Adonis of a man, and the sight of him still made her breath catch. This was her Icarus, and he was ready to fly.

John Grayson leapt from the platform, head tilted back, feet forward. He swung his legs back, then forward again as he thrust his hips to increase momentum. Back and forth he went, each period longer, getting higher, and higher. He lifted his legs above his head, feet on either side of the fly bar, transitioning into a heel hook for the next full swing. He lifted himself up as he hooked his leg pivoted his agile body atop the fly bar, a huge grin on his face as if he were a child on his parent’s swing set.

Acrobatics- flying came naturally to him as it did with all Graysons, you could tell by the shine in his eyes, the way his body cut through the air in smooth strokes. This was his turf. In quick calculated movements, he allowed himself to slip and straddle the bar, legs extended, arms free- applause thrumming below him. He swung again, getting higher, faster. The crowd was holding their breath, suspense and anticipation were stinging the goose bumps on their skin. Now, that he couldn’t get any faster, almost a blur to the spectators below, John kicked off his feet, completely letting go of the bar- The crowd shrieked, awestruck as the man’s strong frame seemed suspended in the air for just a moment as his momentum allowed him to climb up higher in sync with the trapeze. The Flying Grayson, John’s own signature move. To witness it was breathtaking, and the whole crowd was silent as if time itself had been suspended. Just as quickly, John grabbed the bar before it was too far out of reach, swinging down with a wave and a smile. The crowd went wild.

  
Mary focused on her entrance, despite the years she could still feel the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Even after all this time, this was what she had fallen in love with. The lights, the crowd, but most of all her husband. The same kind of white powder that had surrounded her lover, was now speckled across her sure hands and strong arms. Smoothing over every scar and freckle on her skin to give her the guise of marble as she gripped her own trapeze. She willed her heart to slow, breathing in through her nose. She needed to focus. A Grayson never hesitated, a Grayson flew through the air, head high. She pushed off.

As Mary launched herself up at the end of her swing, flew into a triple somersault, she closed her eyes and outstretched her arms. Her hands were open, trusting, waiting for her lover’s firm grasp. She learned to trust him with her heart, her soul. Flying like this, there was no greater test. She couldn’t help feeling safe- assured- a moment of weightlessness that should dissipate as she came falling down toward John’s waiting grasp.

_A sudden jolt, a loud clap, a snap!_

She gripped the width of John’s muscled forearms, his thick hands wrapping around her wrists. This was living. She couldn’t wait for the next time she brought her little boy up here.

_Screams._

Mary’s eyes shot open. _But Something was wrong_ \- the weightless feeling didn’t leave. She was falling- he was falling. She locked eyes with her husband and saw something she had never seen before. Creeping into the edges of those steely blue irises. He was so close now Why was he so close?

Falling- what was that in his eyes. John held Mary’s face in his hands. Air rushed past her ears, the image of her little Robin taking to the trapeze for the first time burned into her mind’s eye. This feeling felt like forever, this falling, John didn’t let her look away.

“Oh, Dick” came her breathless words. They were falling. From 30 feet. A fleeting sense of fear filled her heart, her soul, as a realisation came to her in those few seconds. _What will happen to their little boy?_ That was it. That was the fear in John’s eyes- then nothing.

***

Dick Grayson woke with a start, gasping for breath. Cold sweat, clung to his clammy skin as struggled through breathless sobs whose salt stung his eyes. _He hadn’t had that dream since he was 8._

The tasteless green light of his digital clock illuminated the darkness of his cramped twin bed whose frame filled up most of his even smaller 200 sq. foot studio.

 _It’s 4 in the morning_. The sheets were on the floor, leaving brisk air to drag its fingertips across his bare skin, he was shivering. He felt his heart throb in his throat. _He had to calm down._ Dick’s heart was still racing as the images bubbled up behind his eyes. _Mom, Dad._

In these moments, in the dead of night, where even the sirens of the city were asleep, was where he missed them the most. The weight of it made it hard to breathe. He remembered when he was a kid, there would be a rush of wind, and strong arms would be around him in a second. Letting him sob, until the tears and snot would drench leathered arms until they were slick and soused. The nightly patrol couldn’t even stop the Batman from saving the night, it seemed.

 _“I know that it’s hard, I know that it hurts.”_ He’d say, with the calming sureness of a man who only knew too well. _“It’s okay to feel it.”_ There was warmth back then, warmth that filled him up despite the emptiness inside. Behind all the Kevlar and enforced leather, under the tools for every scenario, the dossiers, and backup plans- More than anything that the Batman was, Bruce was the closest thing to a father he had known.

_“But you cannot let it control you.”_

Warmth was cooled by expectation. The softness of his voice was hardened by the burgeoning duty of an adulthood that came much too fast. It became a time of control, a time of discipline, where waking from nightmares became sleepless nights cleaning up the city; together until Robin could stand on his own. So, when the training wheels were torn off. He dared to stand tall. Dick Grayson dared to carry his own weight and pushed anything even feigning weakness away. That got him in trouble- that hurt people- distanced friends- some more than friends. He could hear them now, like wraiths that swirled in his head. _Her red hair blazed in his mind’s eye as if asking him if he’d ever get so close to the fire again._ It was all for a purpose, he’d tell himself. It was for every little boy who didn’t have to grow up in cold rooms with shadows of what they should have had. Who didn’t have to struggle to remember the way their mother laughed- or the way their father would hold their hand. Yet, it was in these moments, among shadows, whose grip was strong around his heart that he missed them- and he missed the warmth.

Unsteady at first, Dick Grayson rose to his feet, a shudder running up his back from the frigid breeze of an open window. _One day I’m gonna get out of this place._ he slammed the cracked and grimy window shut. _I’m gonna move right on top of the equator- Bruce probably owns an island there somewhere_. A little bit of wind whistled through the window pane’s hairline cracks, much to Dick’s chagrin. Filling the small room with migraine inducing pitches. He winced. Being the “son” of a millionaire could have afforded him better quarters, but in Blüdhaven, that was just asking for trouble. _At least this is actually mine._

The first siren rang in the foggy distance of the old whale town, gathering his senses and a bitter cup of joe from last night, he quickly pulled on his things.

***

The Bat-scope moaned and groaned as its gears pushed optical zoom to maximum capacity. The lights of the street lamps were like balls of starlight in the green haze of night vision. Barbara Gordon bit down on her lower lip as she struggled to get a clear picture of the scene unfolding below her. Two figured sandwiched between large white vans. An impossibly large man enwrapped in a mess of tubes and a slender figure in a one piece.

“it’s January and she’s wearing a bathing suit,” Batgirl muttered under her breath, judgement in every syllable. Dr Pamela Lillian Isley, or Poison Ivy to most of Gotham’s Citizens, sashayed across the grounds of the construction zone of Burnside’s new progressive grocery market “Safer Way”, apparently pontificating about something to her accomplice. _But Poison Ivy never came by through Burnside- we have organic community farms for god’s sake.” Babs chewed on that thought._

“I’m going need to get closer” As powerful as the batscope was, it was nigh impossible to attempt any lip reading at this resolution; which was grainy and pixelated and if she tried to shoot a microphone down there, it would draw immediate attention. Babs readied her grappling gun, calculating the height and speed requirements a second before launching herself up and over to an I BAR several feet above the villainess and her goons. She landed lightly, rolling to the beam’s precipice with a dancer’s agility, quietly thanking whatever deity or deities that gave her the chance to walk again. Spending time in a wheelchair had a way of making you thankful for every step.

“Once my little babies break ground,” purred Ivy’s rouged lips, “one would only expect any new born to need a mother’s love and nourishment” Ivy cooed as she caressed a small burlap sack held close to her bosom. Barbara couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the scene- she **HATED** that pouty baby voice Ivy made Every. Single. Time. She talked about her “babies”

She crouched a closer toward the edge, men dressed in black jumpsuits were pulling out large tanks from the back of each van. By the way, the lackeys were handling the cargo, hunched over and huffing, Barbara could guess the cylinders were maybe 20 or 30 pounds. Both vans seemed to be filled to the brim.

“Nothing good ever came out those” she whispered to herself, using the batscope to get a clear ID on its contents. NH₃. Trihydrogen nitride... concentrated Industrial grade... That’s not good. Bab’s eidetic memory recalled her professor’s droning lectures in organic chemistry. Molecular structure… pnictogen hydride... Fertilizer… anhydrous ammonia. External heat source... thermal runaway.

“This stuff explodes” Barbara gasped, quickly scanned the area for any sources of heat- matches- torches- guns _Yeah lots of guns._ _That’s definitely not good._ “This stuff is heavily monitored by the government. How did they get their hands on-“

“We’ll be able to feed all my little darlings to their heart’s content with these gifts from Blüdhaven.” cackled Poison Ivy

_Well, that answers that._

_Didn’t Dick start haunting that old whaler town?_ The thought gave Barbara Gordon pause, colour flushing to her cheeks. She hadn’t spoken to Dick in years. At the end, they couldn’t even stand in the same room for too long. He had left to find a new life in Jump city. To leave a shit town like Gotham for the sun and waves of the west coast. To leave the smog, he said also meant he could leave her for good… _though_   _He sure as hell found another notch on his bed post._ Batgirl forced herself to take deep breaths, stifling unwarranted feelings that rose from the pit of her stomach. It was over- they had been over for some time. _Let that ship sail Babs._ She never asked him why he came back.

Ivy continued on, much to Bane’s vexation, who only replied with a stray “Si” and “Claro” while she outlined her plan. Ivy had propagated some new giant super plants underneath this plot a few years ago- and they were just now ready to sprout. It sounded like Ivy’s typical modus operandi. Lots of poison. Giant Ivy. Humans suck, _oh my babies._

“giant plants and explosive fertiliser on sale, aisle 5” she groaned “ So much for Safer way.” _I’ll need to be cautious, a single discharge from a rifle could light us up enough for Metropolis to see it._

“First I’ll need to take out Bane” Batgirl calculated, pulling at her utility belt to take inventory of what she could use “Unless Ivy has any airborne toxins at hand” she pulled up the air filtration system in her cowl “All without being noticed. Great. I’m going need to be quick- I’m going need to be quiet. _What does the Bat say?_ She visualised the stunning, threatening image of the Dark Knight. At times the visceral reaction of his silhouette still found a way to give her chills. She had to embody that too. “I am the nig-”

  
Something whizzed by and hit the tubes on Bane’s back with a **THUNK!** An erratic beeping light lit up followed by an explosion which tore Bane’s Venom packs off his body.

 _No no no no no no no. Explosions were exactly what I_ DIDN’T _want._

A figure hit Bane in the gut with the signature scream of Eskrima sticks and an arc of electricity. Ivy dashed off out of sight underneath the facade of the new building

“Is he STUPID?"

Adrenaline rushed through her body as she fumbled with her batarangs and grappling gun at the same time. She could feel fear thumping against her chest, or was that annoyance? Swinging off the roof of the unfinished building, she took aim. If so much as a spark hits those tanks... There was an opening between Bane and his contender, Babs flew her projectiles, quickly cutting through the air and disarming Bane’s opponent. Bane looked confused before Batgirl swung forward, planting both feet firmly into his jaw. Using the behemoth’s face as a launching point she did a somersault up and over, landing next to her old partner as their nemesis stumbled to the ground.

“What the HELL Batgirl” he glared, accusingly at his old companion. Dick Grayson.

“DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED?!” Incredulous, her gaze tore into the man next to her, spitting her words out “did you even think about the consequences of an exothermic reaction this close to these chemicals?” Dick had gotten taller since she last saw him, she tried to ignore a flutter in her stomach as she jabbed her finger into his surprisingly solid chest.

“What are you even talking about? They came out of a FARM.” Nightwing spoke nonchalantly, he knew that fired her up “I’ve been tracking them since Bludhaven,” Several thugs came running toward them, Nightwing threw electrified projectiles, keeping his eyes on the fiery haired woman in front of him. The bird shaped “wing-dings” whizzed by, discharging an electric arc between them until they met their target. The men were shocked and incapacitated in a single throw.

_He was always such a show-off._

“Goddammit, stop doing that!” She scolded as she faced the man who broke the bat. Nightwing took care of any remaining guards. Bane was a little disoriented, she used that to her advantage. His punches were clumsy, unfocused, as he attempted to gather his senses. Twirling, ducking, and leaping, Batgirl was on the offensive. She launched herself airborne from behind on Bane’s shoulders and pummeled him to the ground in a downward drop-kick. Bane fell to the ground with a thick and satisfying thud, a surge of self-indulgent satisfaction warmed her cheeks. She had to admit, Dick was effective. Without Venom, and along with her own surprise attack, they had whittled enough out of Bane to finish him off without too much effort. But I will be skinned alive before I let him know that. She took the villain down with another well-placed kick and Babs felt damn proud. She turned back to Nightwing who had been juggling at least three other men. With palm thrust into the thug closest to him, she said.

“It’s not just fertiliser. It’s compressed anhydrous ammonia. THAT COMBUSTS!” She emphasised the last part with a little more vigour than needed. _Maybe that’ll get through his thick skull._

“WHAT?!” said the dumbfounded former boy wonder. “What Farmer would use explosive fertiliser?!”

“Apparently ones in Blüdhaven Rob-” Barbara was abruptly swept off her feet, hitting the ground with a **THUD**. Dick’s body was pressing hard against her. If it hadn’t been so chaotic- Babs would have taken a moment to appreciate the feel of him against her again. Like looking through old photographs in her mind, she could practically imagine his strong muscled body, even through all the armour, tensing and relaxing on top of her. A whiff of Dick’s cologne- citrus...pine...sandalwood, it was the same, just like before. What had it been? 5 years ago? If she were a weaker person, she’d admit it felt nice.

The loud **SHUNK** of oversized thorns hitting the ground above her head shook her back to reality- well it would have if she had been day dreaming.

“I’ve got you, Babs,” he whispered into her ear. “And it’s Nightwing.”

***  
Dick had left Gotham for a reason.

First, it was Happy Harbour, because Bruce wanted him to “spread” his wings a little bit. To be honest, he had thought that it was so that his “dads” could get rid of him. Of course he understood the commute between Metropolis and Gotham could be hell- of course, he knew they loved him, but he barely got enough time with them himself. With Secret Identities… school…. jobs… he felt a little betrayed. Wasn’t he good enough to fight on their sides? Hadn’t he done it for years? But he was thrust into it with a team he could trust. It was a place where he could learn with kids just like him- he got a taste of something. What it felt like to lead, what it felt like to have people who understood him, what it felt like to be a part of a larger whole. It felt like the circus again and He wanted that. He craved that, and then Gotham alone felt awfully claustrophobic.

For a time, Barbara Gordon was a thorn in his side. She knocked out thugs at Batman’s six before he did, decrypted codes before he had a grasp on it, got through security protocols with the punch of a key before he had a chance to cross the threshold. Hell, even Clark loved her. He was jealous, severely so. More than that, he was afraid that she would take his place, and he was competitive. They were just a couple of kids looking for purpose in the grimy streets of Gotham, both vying for the place in Batman’s shadow. _They hated each other._

Batgirl was inducted to their small covert team not long after. The moment she stood there, in the warm light of mount justice, eager to be liked, hoping to find acceptance, he felt something stir inside him. Like an animal had woken up. Gone was that brainy know-it-all that got in his way. They were kids before, but by then he was 16 and she was 18. Dick couldn’t believe he had missed the woman who took Barbara’s place. Suddenly she was stunning. Instead of his cold steely drive to out do her, was a fire. He couldn’t speak straight around her, his pulse raced, and he felt nauseous in that confusing and infuriating way young love seemed to bloom. She was there every time he closed his eyes. It consumed him.

They fell hard, in every sense. Sometimes in fights in front of the team, most times hushed in the back of closets so they wouldn’t get caught. They fell fast, and it was supposed to be forever. Yet, when they lost Wally, and Barbara lost her legs, things fell apart.

“Did you use that line on her too?” came the sharp jab of Barbara Gordon’s voice, the present moment jolted back into focus. He snapped his gaze down into the emerald green of Bab’s eyes and held it for a little bit too long, questioning. There was always a fire there, but this time he saw something he didn’t expect. It was like a wall, a barrier concealing what bubbled up underneath. _What could he say to that? They moved on._

She kneed him smartly in the abdomen. Nightwing lost his balance while Batgirl threw him off. He landed on his back, mouth filled with the muddy taste of the dirt cloud that surrounded him. _She's always gotta do it the hard way._ He flipped up onto his feet, pulling the heroine close.

“Jesus Babs, easy on- ” he drew her close, exasperated in their mingled breath.

“The what?” she spat, shoving him “My legs?” Dick knew he just said the exact wrong thing he was supposed to. “For God’s sake **Nightwing**. If you didn’t notice, Bane is lying in a heap thanks to these legs.” she shoved him away.

“Batgirl, that’s not what I meant” Dick hated the hint of a whine that came out of his voice, and he tried to swallow it down. He was never good at these kinds of confrontations, at least in Blüdhaven, he didn’t have to walk on eggshells. There were just thugs to rough up, and problems he could solve.

“Oh, how darling,” the cowled crusaders turned their attention to the scene before them “Our little birds are getting territorial” Ivy stood atop the facade of the half finished building, thick vines had wrapped around each beam, crashed through the walls. Ivy’s pet plant must have grown to about 12 feet in the last 20 minutes. _This isn’t going be pleasant_ ," thought Batman’s former protege

“Thanks to your uninvited intrusions,” announced the villainess, she seemed equal parts annoyed and excited “I’ve had to wake my little baby from its nap ahead of its brood.” The vines coiled and tensed, pointing rows upon rows of thorns toward both young heroes. “And you know how cranky children can be after a nap” pouted Ivy for a moment, then threw her head back in cackled laughter as her plant took action, oozing giant thorns careening toward the young heroes’ direction. The pair ran for cover, leaping behind one of the vans just as the pointed prickling projectiles crushed the metal sides like paper. Shards of metal and glass rained down on them. The vehicle moaned and leaned as it was being pelted with an unrelenting onslaught of thorns.

“We’re gonna need a distraction and a hell of a lot of firepower to push through” calculated Batgirl, any gripe they were working through was far and distant, now it was all business. Dick liked it that way, it was easier to deal with. “If we find a way to get through undetected, we could flank Ivy.”

“I got that covered” Dick quickly replied. Eager to do something he could actually solve.  
As he was about to jump out from cover, Babs held him back. He leaned in close, waiting for her to speak.

“we have do something about her plants” Barbara looked up at her old partner, focusing in on his nose as if it had a secret map. When was the last time we were this close? Forcing the thought away she said, “I have a small med kit, but I won’t be able to synthesise an antidote if we get hit by those poisoned thorns.” Batgirl picked up an oozing thorn from the ground, the left eye of her cowl lit up. Compositional analysis. Dick watched her, he could practically hear the gears in her head turning. He chuckled, as the left side of her lips smirked while she was thinking. She still did that when she was deep in thought. _I use to stare at her doing this for hours._ He paused. _Where had that come from?_

Barbara looked up, suddenly self-conscious of Dick’s gaze. Keep it together Babs. She cleared her throat while her cheeks reddened, in the hope that it would conceal the butterflies that blossomed in her stomach.

“If growth rates remain consistent with the last cycle, then it has the potential of growing probably 20% bigger in the next 15 minutes.”

Dick peered over the side of the van, Ivy was having a grand old time, she rarely had Batman pinned down like this, and the apparent victory put her in hysterics. The vines alternated pelting them, each limb seemed to go limp after each shot for- five… six… seven seconds before they shot again.

“Gotta act fast then, Babs”

Babs pulled him down, shoving a respirator in his face. She pointed up at the van’s gaping holes, which seemed to be expelling a faintly grey gas. The tanks were leaking, and soon they were engulfed in the foul cloud. It tasted like metal, the smell of it stung his nose and he blinked back the stinging in his eyes. He could already tell what she was thinking.

It goes Boom.

Dick nodded to her. Putting the respirator back onto her face so that she could breathe. She said

“This gas can get really nasty if we inhale it, I only have one respirator” She took a deep breath and placed it back on his face.

Nightwing spoke, “But if we can get this hunk of junk moving, we could detonate and blast that thing to smithereens.” He took a breath and placed it back on Batgirl’s face

“One of us get’s Ivy’s attention, the other shoves this sucker down her throat” They nodded in agreement, then leapt into action.

Dick Grayson, jumped to the side, sending his bird blades at the viney trunks. _I’ve just got to get her attention._ A dozen or so more launched at the villain’s face, forcing her in the defensive as vines blocked the wing-dings from hitting their mark. She didn’t like that. Instantly a rain of thorns came barreling towards him. Dick just needed to avoid each wave and he’d have a reprieve of seven seconds before he’d have to get out of the way again. Artfully, he dodged and turned, leaping and spinning out of the way. _I won’t be able to keep this up forever, hopefully, I won’t have to._

***

Babs wouldn’t be able to start the engine, the spark plug alone would turn the whole thing into a fireball before she’d even move an inch. She got into the driver’s seat and tied her grappling gun to the wheel. The leather of the seat rubbed against her suit uncomfortably as she grounded herself. She kicked the windshield out, glass shattered under the point of her heels _I fucking love heels._ Batgirl put the truck in neutral, then disengaged the parking brake. The van lurched forward but stopped. _You need to go faster Babs._ She was worried about Dick. But he could handle himself, _he’s being able to do that for years without me._ That thought stung a little bit.

“I don’t think this is going to work out Dick” Babs had said the day they parted ways. They were in the hospital, Dick had snuck in through the window (on the 15th floor of Gotham Med, no less) and spent the entire night with her. Barbara had been out like a light, in the kind of induced restless sleep you only got at a hospital. She would stir and groan, and Dick would get into the cramped space next to her ever so gingerly as to not disturb or harm her. They had shot her up with enough morphine to take out an elephant, but she remembered his hands around her’s. Feeling him there, the comfort, the warmth, she would never forget that. “I can’t do it”

“Babs, you’re just sayin’ that. You’re- You’re in shock.” Dick kneeled next to the hospital bed, his eyes were pleading then, the colour had drained from his face. It had been only a few weeks after Wally- Kid Flash had disappeared and Babs didn’t know how much more he could take. I’m doing this for him. She had thought to herself. _I can’t have a flying Grayson hover over a cripple for the rest of his life._

“Babs, I love you, more than I could have ever known”

 _Oh don’t say it like that Dick_ It wasn’t going make things any easier, those words obliterated the walls she had built around herself. The look on his face threatened to dissolve her resolve.

“I love you more than myself,” He squeezed her hands, the way his voice faltered around the lump in his throat- it spoke volumes more than he usually allowed himself to reveal and Barbara could barely keep the tears from spilling down her face. " more than- we’ll- we’ll ma-” Barbara stopped him, yet all of her just wanted him to say it. We’d make it through this. We’d make it work. She knew she couldn’t make him do that.

“No Dick- I- I need”

_**Don’t do it Babs** _

“More than you, you aren’t enough.” The words left Barbara’s mouth and Dick’s breath hitched painfully. There. She thought. That’s where I broke him “You won’t be able to love me like this... not the way I need. No.”

“Oh.” and that was all he said. It was like she had just sucked up all of the light and vitality he had in his body, and smothered it. Looking back at that time still shook her. It was supposed to be for the best. Barbara knew she had to let this bird go, otherwise, he’d be caged for the rest of his life. So why does it hurt so much? Defeated, Dick couldn’t even raise his eyes to meet hers. He just got up and left.

_She should have known better._

Batgirl pointed her grappling gun forward and shot it toward the building’s facade. _This baby could pull about 453.5 kilogrammes at full capacity, that’s not going cut it by itself. I’m at a slight decline so I just need to build enough momentum and the gun will do the rest._ Babs quickly glanced out the window, Nightwing was miraculously dodging every hit, even scoring a couple good shots but he was slowing down. _Those things were relentless._

From behind the van, Batgirl pushed her weight into the vehicle, straining to move the large vehicle. It wouldn't budge. _You were given the ability to walk for a reason Babs,_ she turned to face the Van and pushed again hoping to get a better angle. _You can do this._

 **WHAM!** Batgirl crumpled to the ground. A shock ran through her entire body, and she felt needles running up and down her spine. Her legs felt numb. _Oh god. Oh god._ Bane charged into the heroine, slamming her body hard against the vehicle. _Did she hear a crack?_

“Buenas Noches, Chica”

Panic surged through Barbara Gordon as struggled to breathe. Her heart hammered in her chest as she attempted to crawl away. _The world was spinning, my back. The man who broke the bat hit me in the back. my legs-_ Stricken, Batgirl lost herself in that moment, she swore she could hear a gunshot, and laughter- that horrible laughter.

“Where’s your fire now, girl?” mocked the large man as he loomed over her. “Pathetic little kitten,”

The impact caused the large white van to roll away. The grappling gun began to build the vehicle’s momentum as it barreled toward the construction site and Poison Ivy’s monstrosity. It hit the base of the oversized weed, with a thump, leaking its toxic gas into the plant’s trunk and roots.

***  
Barbara was in trouble. He saw her go down. Faltering, stray spikes tore off pieces of his armour on his chest and arms, thankfully not breaking the skin.  

“Gifts for the baby shower?!” exclaimed the poisoned villain in mocked dismay. “What a kind little bat!” Poison Ivy guffawed in unrestrained delight. Due to a new source of food, the plant grew exponentially. The older vines split open, releasing a hundred more. Now a staggering height, the venomous eukaryote towered above Nightwing. _That was not whelming._

“I am NOT feeling the Aster, Ivy!” Dick exclaimed. “It’s time to end this.”

Wing-dings, Dick’s signature projectiles sliced through the gaseous air, embedding themselves into the trunk of Poison Ivy’s monstrosity. The bird shaped weapon blinked for a few seconds, then-

**BOOM**

It happened all at once, concrete and plant debris were falling everywhere, everything stank of shit and burning. The blast knocked Bane to his feet- Ivy was nowhere to be found. It was hard to see in the gaseous burning cloud that now engulfed the area. In the thick black smoke, Nightwing could barely see a foot in front of him. The building’s facade now a burning crater, Dick searched, called out for Barbara. Every cell in his body was thrumming with a sickening thought- that the blast had gone too far, that Babs- the debris- He saw her go down.

 _That spitfire is too tough,_ he told himself. _like hell, something like could take her down._ Yet, fear sank to the pit of his stomach and twisted his insides. He had spent too long of a time to build up the courage to see her again, and now he might not get a chance. _I spent all this time trying to let you go..._ Not like this. His heart was pounding, fire coursed through his veins as he coughed profusely between the lines of Barbara’s moniker.

It was her red hair he noticed first. Relief washed over him as the smoke begun to clear around them.

“Oh thank god Batgirl, you’re alrig-”

Her arm was lifted toward him, the silver on her gauntlet’s mini bow glinted in the fire around them.

“Missed me Fly Boy”

Poison Ivy’s toxin tipped arrow ripped through the smoke in a matter of seconds and hit Nightwing. He felt a stabbing pain- and then the world tumbled into darkness.

Lights faded in and out, He was being moved. Attempting to lift his arms felt like lifting a building and could hear frantic mumblings all around him. Non Distinct sounds, voices sounding as if they were speaking under water, came and went out of earshot. His body felt like lead.

“I should have known a redhead would be the death of me” he murmured, his speech slurred, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Dick winced, every sound he made felt like iron wool scraping at his throat.

“Dick?” Barbara gasped, her voice frantic and faltering. It sounded like it was coming from all around him. “Oh thank god you’re awake.”

Her hands, uncovered from its armoured confines cupped his face as his eyes fluttered. The touch of her skin was warm and calming, and it was only then that he realised that he had been shivering. His armour had been removed, and he was reclined on a long futon

“Where- where am I? How’d I?”

“You’re safe,” there was a pause, space that seemed too large for the distance between them. The room was still spinning. Dick tried to push himself up, but Barbara’s hand on his chest kept him reclined. “Rest. You’re in my emergency bunker, it was the closest I could get before-” Barbara bit her lip her voice trailing into a faltering nothingness. She tugged on the deep red of her bottom lip with her teeth. The way she did whenever she tried to hold back tears, noted Dick.

“I’m alright Babs” Dick slurred, the plosives of his consonants sounding more like Ds or Ps. Ivy’s poison was beginning to dissipate, but man did it have a bite.

“No Dick, I- it was my fault.” She tried to blink back tears, pulling off her cowl, shoulders slumped. Fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders, and Dick tried to read the expression on her face. The weight of her failures, shortcomings, and the walls she built seemed to have been crumbling. She would get like this, before when he loved her. The normally brazen self-assured genius would lay bare the fear and doubt that always swirled in the depths of those chrysoberyl eyes. Her tears looked like star light, and everything was fuzzy on the edges of his vision.

“Ivy got you, you collapsed and I had to administer an anti-venom before you flat lined. I didn’t have the equipment... The- the venom was fast acting and you weren’t conscious.” Barbara explained in stutters and spurts like an engine unable to turn over. She continued even as tears kept getting between her words, soaking every syllable yet she spoke through her sobs. When she did this before, collapsing into his body, trying to reason against a flood of emotion, he’d just hold her. Though he was too weak to, she leaned in close to him, trying to explain. The bunker- any form of help was too far, her grappling gun was shot, Ivy and Bane got away.

“I choked Dick, a little hit in the back and I froze and-”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Dick had heard enough. He placed a finger on her lips, then placed his palm on the side of her cheek. Babs stared at him, wide eyed, unsure, pleading. Her tears looked as if they had been suspended in the corners of her eyes. As if she held them there like she was holding her breath now. She leaned into his palm, wrapping her own around him.

“I'm okay, thanks to you”

Dick pulled her in, closer, their noses almost touching and their breath mingled together like the world was caving in around them. She didn’t have to say it. She should have known better back then. He should have kept fighting. In shivered breaths, they closed the space between them. The first kiss was shy, apologetic, as the time to say sorry was long past- and that was the thing. What happened to love deferred? What happens when you both go your own way, to grow, to flourish, and to move on, to love again and lose. What happens to love past the first time around, and you already gave yourself awayd? Could you open doors long closed?

The second kiss was long, desperate as if their muscles just remembered long forgotten emotions, lips like sequestered pieces of a puzzle finally sliding back into place. Hands gliding as you tried to reacquaint yourself with every hill and valley of their body. It was like a fire ignited from embers long cooled. A spring after the snow had melted away.

The third kiss never happened.

Barbara pulled away in a quiet gasp. Her heart banging at her chest, threatening to burst.

“This place is safe,”

She got up quickly and left. Leaving Dick in this bunker with the shuddering chill of night.

What happened to a love deferred?

Could you still call it love?

***

Deep in the darkness of the Villainess’ hidden lair, the poisoned Vixen was laughing. Ecstatic. Never had she dreamed that her plot would twist so much in her favour.

“There’s been a change of plans Bane-y baby,” 


	2. A Moth to the Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an eventful night and nearly missing death by a poison dart. Nightwing and Batgirl must figure out a way to move forward, but something sinister is lurking, pulling the strings in ways that the heroes don't yet understand. What is Poison Ivy's plan and how will it unfold?

Dick tried to call out to Barbara. The fleeting taste of her lips on the tip of his tongue. Barbara Don’t. It wasn’t just that he needed to make sense of this sudden burst of emotion, it wasn’t just that he had spent more than half a life running away from her specter. 

It was because something was wrong. 

The sound of Barbara Gordon’s heels died away followed by a gust of the early morning air. Dick tried to rise from the futon attached to the wall, tried to get her attention. The world flipped on its axis as Dick fell with the sickening clap of bare skin to tile. He groaned through gritted teeth, just heart racing. The ailing hero took in a labored shivering breath. It was as if he were breathing through a straw, or a phantom had cut off his airway. Clammy hands tried to grasp the metal frame of the bed, his muscles straining to lift himself off the floor; his strength was siphoned off, body feeling like a sack of potatoes; dead weight. Weak and feeble, he swallowed down the bile rising up his throat with an acidic feeling gulp. He felt woozy, nauseated

She administered the anti-venom thought Dick frantically to himself. 

The injured hero doubled over from pain in his stomach, it felt like spikes impaling him. That feeling spread, like a fire traveling down each nerve until his very finger tips were aflame. Something isn’t right... His vision blinked in and out, thoughts folding in themselves and cycling in a loop making it hard for him to concentrate- hard for him to perceive what was real. His throat was on fire. Was he yelling? Was that his screams he heard bouncing off the metal walls? 

What the hell is happening to me? 

Nightwing tried to crawl over to the comm attached to the discarded pile of clothes, sweat dripped over his muscled back like icicles dragging across his trembling body. Fumbling, he reached out, the shift in his body weight caused him to collapse once more- his face connecting to the cold floor. He took slowing, shallow breaths. 

Help. Someone, please. There was a sharp pain in his head, it felt intrusive, wrong, as if something were splitting his head into two. Then, blackness. 

Barbara

***

“Think about it Barbara, honey, haven't you seen the headlines?” 

SAFER WAY OBLITERATED AS VIGILANTE VIOLENCE INCREASES IN BURNSIDE

Barbara Gordon threw the Gotham Gazette onto her apartment’s dining table with a frustrated sigh. She cradled her cellphone in the nook of her shoulder as her father, once again, attempted to coerce her into moving back in with him for the hundredth time. It was late in the morning, and she was in no mood to endure him, as much as she loved him. 

“Yes Dad, I have and the answer is no.” 

Barbara could hear her father, the Commissioner of Gotham, expel a long frustrated groan which seemed to scrape the very air raw. Here we go, she thought. 

“Goddammit honey, it could have been your block” There was a loud thud on the other end of the line, he had probably slammed his fist onto his desk. Barbara heard an edge in his voice. She didn’t like that. Before she could voice her protests, he said “I can’t just keep doing this Babs,” Her father paused with a trembled breath. “I’m worried sick, I can’t concentrate, I can’t sleep,” 

Jim Gordon’s daughter took pause, rarely had her father ever leveled with her like this. His faltering words, a step too close to tears, shook Barbara deeper than any other time before. She knew her father worried, but there would be no way Batgirl could survive under the former detective’s scrutinizing eye. He continued, and Barbara listened. 

“As a Commissioner, I understand Burnside is supposed to be safer than Gotham, statistically.” his voice was strained, the way she knew when he tried to keep a cap on things bubbling up inside; after years he had learned logic was the easiest way to get to his eldest child. “But as a father, I just can’t live with your being so close to danger. You’d be safer here, with me.” Where I can protect you, he seemed to say. Barbara knew the context. 

Moving her mobile to the other ear, Babs took a seat on one of the wooden stools she had picked up from that Swedish furniture store close to town. It wobbled a bit as she shifted her weight, its creaks louder than she’d like. No matter how many times she had tried to disassemble and repair the thing it never was able to provide firm ground. 

“Dad, it’s okay. I’m safe.” she tried to placate him, telling him about her graduate program, everything that was on the university’s pamphlet, voicing the mundane aspects of her daily life usually did the trick. “I’m doing much better.” 

Despite last night’s disaster, she had meant those words. She was finding her groove unlike any time previous, even when she was under Batman’s cape. Even without that cocky show boater who made her knees weak, she could finally feel like she was strong enough to stand… maybe even next to that cocky show boat? Could they actually make it work again? This morning’s events seemed to suggest so. The thought of Batman’s former sidekick caused her mind to drift, the shape of his strong chest... the way he looked in those tights… sometimes a photographic memory was a god ordained miracle. 

“Barbara no, Detective Sanders said that you-” 

“Wait. Detective Sanders?” heat rose to her face, shaken back into reality like being struck in the gut. Memories of newly trained detectives trailing her every step, with her years in the chair it had almost become a rite of passage for Gotham PD’s investigative branch. Those days she had barely left her apartment as much due to fear of being discovered as much as the handicap of mobility. “Dad, are you having me followed?” Anger burned in her bones and sharpened the edges of her words. 

“Sweetie no, it’s not like that, I-” 

“It’s not like what Dad? COMMISSIONER GORDON, are YOU having some lackey baby sit YOUR POOR, DISABLED DAUGHTER?” They had fought about this before, the violation, the silent surrendering of freedom. It never sat with her well, wings clipped or not. 

“Barbara you are NOT listening.” Her father’s temper flared up, bellowing into the mouthpiece on the other side. “I was just making sure you get home at night, you’re on his beat and he just checks every so often for me.”

“Oh GREAT Dad.” she huffed in reply “I feel SO SAFE with you SPYING on me.” Poison Ivy could have distilled the venom in her words and really made something to worry about. She hurried over to the windows of her flat, eyes skimming across the street 5 stories below. She had been careful not to exit out of the front door at night, but worry caused her heart to pound in her ears. 

“I’m just doing what I think is best. I’m KEEPING you SAFE”

“If you wanted to keep me safe Dad. You should have stopped the JOKER when he was at our FRONT DOOR.” There was a sickening silence on the other line when the words left her mouth. A quiet side of her mind knew she was taking it too far, but nevertheless, she persisted. “You can tell Detective Sanders to shove it, he could be spending his time actually catching the suckers that make this city such a shit hole rather than twiddling his thumbs on my stoop.” 

If she could have slammed the phone to hang it up, she would have. Instead, she jerked her phone away from her face and swiped left as aggressively as she was able to. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying. 

At first, Barbara was worried that the Detective may have caught her exiting her complex as Batgirl, maybe seen her rush out on her batcycle. Though, she was sure that he would report that to her father as soon as he had seen it. Barbara rushed to the window overlooking the street, eyes scanning. Seeing one of those lawless vigilantes coming out of her front door would have been the ace in Dad’s sleeve to MAKE her leave Burnside at the very least. That was a hard conversation she was not willing to think on any longer, she tore herself away and turned toward the interior of her flat. God forbid the worst case scenario. 

She shifted her focus on the actual lawless vigilantes she had confronted last night with controlled breaths to force herself calm. She had been the Oracle for a reason, and she was going to get to the bottom of this. 

Barbara had always had a knack for gathering intel, in fact she had done it naturally since she was a child. It was a common sight, herself as little girl correcting her father on benign factoids at the tender age of 7. Prodigious! People would exclaim as if meeting a girl who knew her arithmetic cold earned her some sort of medal. A wonder! She rolled her eyes. Information was valuable, using it had given her power at a time when she never felt so powerless. In fact, her information brokerage rivaled even Batman; who had often used her services. Those days she would spend the day shuffling through pictures and video caps of Batman’s every escapade, wishing for one more day with the wind in her hair. It was a lifeline she had clung to during her time on the chair. And that one more day came with several others, sitting on her ass with this kind of tedium almost felt like a chore now. Almost. 

Barbara pulled the license plate numbers she had glanced at the night before. A cold chill ran down her spine as she remembered her face making contact with the orange and black metal plate while Bane pummeled her, her hands subconsciously rubbing her back and the scars from her surgery. The problem with an eidetic memory was that you never got to chose what you remembered. Every chill, every image, and fear had been indelibly carved into the cells of her brain. The way his lips felt as he kissed her, warm and inviting; begging. 

Her stomach did a little bit of a somersault, because despite it all, after all this time, she had always remembered him. A sigh escaped her lips, mind drifting for another few seconds. 

She would give Dick a wide berth now, at least until she could provide him something of substance in fear of looking like a pining school girl who was just waiting for an excuse to see him again. Well. She was pining. And she was a schoolgirl. A graduate student. For a Ph.D. 

“Time to track those suckers down.” Batgirl, the Oracle, walked over to her computer and went to work. 

 

***

Dick Grayson woke up with a start, blurred memories of what happened moments ago swimming through his mind. He looked around his surroundings wildly, trying to piece together what had happened. He was still lying on the metal floor of Barbara’s bunker, the imprint of which was now pressed on his chest and face. How long had he been out? Propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes flickered over to the large digital clock over the entrance.

1335

The 24 hour time count glowed in purple neon light. That would mean he was unconscious for at least 7 hours.

What the hell happened?

He pulled himself off of the floor, the chill of the cool metal clinging to his body. He had nothing on but a tight pair of boxers. It’s freezing. he shivered uncomfortably. Once on his feet, he took a quick assessment of his physical state. Memories were fuzzy, he remembered feeling nauseated, dizzy, and lethargic a few hours ago, that the onset was sudden. Now, however, he felt… well, he felt great. Rejuvenated, refreshed, Nightwing thought he could have leapt tall buildings in a single bound… though that ability specifically was left up to another member of his adoptive family. He felt… happy? Unsuccessfully fighting down a feeling of elation, Dick didn’t know exactly why. A wide grin spread across his chiseled features despite his own bewilderment. 

His thoughts turned to Barbara. He felt a stirring in his body, a certain kind of heat emanating from the deeper parts of him. Those lips, the taste of her tongue. Those were the only clear things he could remember. He took a step forward to pick up his belongings, though a faint glint caught his eye. Dick turned in the cramped bunker to a picture frame, the glass reflecting the clock’s led light. Leaning over to its mounting on the wall he was greeted with the smiling faces of himself, and Barbara, taking a selfie as they dangled over the edge of the Wayne Enterprise Tower in downtown Gotham. Babs, with her shining chrysoberyl eyes, stared at him with a soft expression, he beamed looking right into the camera lens. He couldn’t have been a day over 17.

I remember this shot, He thought fondly, tracing his fingers over the plastic frame that encapsulated the photo. He had his right arm draped over the slim teenage Barbara, pulling her close. His hand, holding the camera, was angled high so that you could see the bustling city underneath their dangling, intertwined feet.

We were celebrating. The two of them. It had been a whole year since they had gone public with their relationship. The entire world was under their feet, together they were capable of anything.

They were fearless he thought glumly turning away from the photograph. Back in those days, he remembered the fear of disconnecting himself from Bruce’s cape. How he had struggled to become him, in every way. He made mistakes, some of which almost cost the lives of himself and the ones he loved. But, she was there. She was always there to support him. Be that a challenge to authority or the inconvenient truth that he, in fact, was not the Dark Night. He never would be, but he was all the more perfect for it. That had all unraveled in a single moment because some sick freak was trying to send a message to Commissioner Gordon. His daughter just collateral damage. He’s been trying to find his footing ever since. He thought he found that in Jump city, but he was just running, always running. Nightwing moved over to the discarded pile of clothes. His suit felt funny as he picked it up. The shape was off... The firm armored fabric was stretched taut between his hands, revealing a clean cut down the center of his chest all the way down to the groin. His suit was ruined. For a moment, the black haired man felt a pang of regret as he examined the red bird emblem that had been his moniker, now irreparably damaged. She saved his life. Going back to his backup suit wasn’t that hard of a sacrifice- 

My backup suit’s in my bike.

He was wearing boxers. 

Thoughts shot to the discarded cycle, dark and sleek, left as he raced toward Ivy and her thugs. 

This cannot be happening. 

Hoping against hope that this was just all a bad dream, he pinched his left arm sharply. Briefly, his nerves reacted, smarting. He let out a low frustrated groan.

“Shit” 

Dick Grayson placed the small leather face mask across his eyes, blanketing his pupils in white as computer-generated augmented reality displayed across his retina. It was going to be a long day. 

*** 

For the past few hours, the only sound in Barbara Gordon’s apartment was the clicking of a keyboard and the odd mumble or two as she followed the breadcrumbs of those she pursued. It felt like cheating in a way, being that costumed villains like Ivy were usually so sloppy. 

Okay, maybe she had a few tricks. 

Barbara had cross-referenced both of the vans’ license plates against the city traffic system which had access to the likes of city traffic cameras, light infractions, and parking tickets. She was in the grid. Usually, the city council and police department would expound upon a number of security protocols they took to prevent the likes of her from getting in, but hackers typically didn’t have their father’s admin access. Commissioner Gordon had commonly left passwords scattered on post-it notes across their shared apartment back in the day. They always ended up in the strangest places, on top of the toilet seat, in the freezer, once it had been stuck under a coffee mug for 3 weeks. Barbara chuckled softly at the thought. Despite his brilliance, Jim Gordon was mostly a Luddite, the frequency of password shifts often left him at a loss, so he made do. Barbara took advantage of that. Getting into the city’s security had just been a matter of using her father’s account to create multiple maintenance or test accounts with admin access. She cycled through them from that point on, like keys to the kingdom. Thank you, Dad. she thought smugly to herself, maybe with a tinge too much of spite. It was a poetic type of irony really because in a way it was because of him that she was able to become such a vigilante. 

The license plates were like bread crumbs on the yellow brick road, she frowned at that mixed metaphor. You’re better than that Babs. She was able to trace their entire path from the old whaler town south of Gotham, to its Borough, Burnside. 

It’s never usually this easy. 

Barbara examined the villainous pair’s route. Straight through main streets and highways, no misdirective detours. She was surprised that the vans with it’s the explosive cargo had run multiple red lights and broken various municipal laws between Blüdhaven and Burnside. An hour’s drive through almost every street camera on the road. Barbara’s stomach lurched at their recklessness as they smashed into the unfortunate commuters in their way. Despite knowing they had at least reached the construction site mostly unscathed, watching their erratic driving made her anxious. They caused minor car crashes, destroyed property, and nearly ran over several pedestrians. Any more reckless and they could have exploded right there in the middle of the highway. 

They were trying to be found. she thought herself, Odd. That MO was usually reserved for the likes of Harley Quinn, and- her blood ran a little colder. He was locked up in Arkham. She shook her head as if it would detach herself from the thought. He couldn’t have anything to do with this. 

In fact, it had been their driving that had originally gotten her to follow them; Racing right past downtown Burnside, in the dead of night. It had gotten her curious. She mentally kicked herself. 

Played right into their hand. No wonder Ivy had been able to get the upper hand so quickly, she had prepared for someone- maybe even the Dark Knight himself to greet them. 

Why? 

Barbara Gordon pulled up the analysis her cowl compiled from the night before. Poison Ivy’s creation had looked like an amalgamation of several plant and vine strands, while impressive, it was usually nothing outside of Poison Ivy’s realm. Chemical composition wasn’t really anything outside of the norm. If Ivy’s contortions were considered normal now. Even the venom, often fatal without the anti-venom, had been standard- His chest barely moving underneath his armor… ripping it in two with the tip of her Batarang revealing his muscled chest. Blue veins popped up and engorged as poison attacked his beautiful body

She shuddered. 

For that she was grateful, had she been unable to anticipate its active chemical agents, to not already synthesize the antidote in her head as she carried his limp body down those few blocks to her bunker. She would never get to… No, don’t think like that Babs. Keep working. She blinked a couple times, ripping her glasses from her face and pinching the bridge of her nose with a long sigh, the day was finally starting to take its toll on her. Her father, Bane’s blows to her back, the kiss; she had tried so hard not to think about that kiss. Get it together. Barbara Gordon forced herself back into the almost clinical detachment that allowed her to dig deeper, to figure it out, to save lives. 

For all intents and purposes, everything was standard, everything fit completely in Ivy’s particular botanical milieu. She found no addictive agents, no pheromones; surprisingly, as far as the plant itself there was no new ace up Ivy’s sleeve that she couldn’t anticipate. It was a clean job subtracting the poison. So why was she so reckless? Why was she trying to be found? Why did Poison Ivy bring along Bane- and why was she so prepared for a confrontation. 

Barbara’s thoughts swirled around in her head, answers evaded her as she tried to grasp them. Something was missing, her gut told her there was more to this but she couldn’t quite get her finger on it. What if she went back to the construction site? See if she could find- 

There was a sound at her window. 

Someone was there. 

A series of knocks and taps followed. 

Babs ran launched out of her chair, which fell with a loud thud along with what remained of her coffee. Thankfully, the metal mug only embarrassingly clanged and rolled away. Fear addled her brain. Nerves blossomed in the pit of her stomach, this time along with the sickly slimy feeling of foreboding. It had been a long time since she answered unannounced calls. A very long time. 

The young heroine scanned through her panicked mind, had Dinah or Helena-? No. It couldn’t be. They were on “assignment" in Belize. Adrenaline pumped through her blood, gunshots and cackled laughing echoing in her head. Maybe it was Dick? Barbara couldn’t believe that Richard Grayson showed up at her apartment. She had never given him the address. Nor had he asked for it, in fact, the first time they have spoken in years was just yesterday.

 

Knock. Tap. Tap. Tap. Knock. Knock. Tap. 

There it was again, a little more frantically. 

Barbara froze. No one else would use that combination to get her attention. What if they’re just trying to get my guard down. 

Babs hid a taser gun underneath the potted plant by her door. She grabbed it. Barbara Gordon’s flat was on the east side of the building, which at this hour, nearly half past 6, didn’t afford her the benefit of a silhouette illuminated by a setting sun. She moved in steady steps, willing her whole body to remain as quiet as it can, willing her heart to be still. With a thumb at the ready on the taser’s trigger, her other hand grasped the old french window in her living room. She waited. 

Knock. 

Barbara threw the window open, hearing it slam against the wall as she pulled at the knocker’s arm, sending him flying through the window and sprawled onto her bare hardwood floor. Taser quickly activated, she connected it to the forearm still in her grasp. 

“What the- ARRGGHH BABS ST--STOP” 

Horrified, she turned off the taser. Speechless as the stunned Dick Grayson lay on her living room floor. Laboriously breathing. Beat up… poisoned… tased… No worries Babs. You’re doing great. 

How to pick up your ex-boyfriend in three easy steps… 

“OH MY GOD. DICK!” 

Barbara quickly knelt down next to her old accomplice. 

“I am SO sorry Dick” she kicked herself in her mind, she sounded like she was apologizing for spilled coffee- not for accidentally incapacitating your ex. 

She quickly darted her eyes up and down, taking in the sight of her ex-boyfriend. Filthy from the neck down, wearing a dirtied and stained zip-up sweater, his boxers exposed, dirtied and brown from things that she dared not ask. She could almost get a glimpse of- well, he was never a small boy. Her cheeks flushed. She forced her attention to his skin, red and burnt- she should have checked on him. What the hell happen? Guilt plagued her further, leaving her frozen as Dick recovered. 

“You always were stunning.” coughed Dick, barely suppressing his sly smile as his joke hung in the air. Babs- still shocked took a moment to register the pun, blinking back what she thought she misheard. A beat. They both burst out in spontaneous laughter. Infectious and incredible that after all these years, it had only taken a little over a day to be so circumstantially ingratiated. Babs collapsed alongside Dick on the floor, taking shallow breaths between bouts of snorting laughter, her hand on her aching belly. Through aching muscles, and wincing pain, Dick threw his head back, letting the tension drain out in the tears of shock and joy. It had been awhile since he laughed like this. Barbara landed in the crook of Richard Grayson’s arms, her red hair spread across the floor, as she looked at the man beside through dying giggles. He was stoic. She bit her lip. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t remember our knock.” He turned to her, blue eyes boring into her, studying her features and tracing the lines in her face, searching. The scrutiny made Barbara uncomfortable, the accusation even more so. 

“It’s not like that, Dick” Barbara looked at the forlorn look in the eyes that seemed to have been carved out of sapphires, it was a shade of emotion shy of hurt left by almost a decade past, always hidden behind his facade- it was magnetic, yet repellent in the way that only regret and grief can accomplish; she shared that, caused it even. Smirking, she clenched her left hand into a fist and rapped the wood floor in response.

Knock. Tap. Tap. Knock. Knock. Tap. 

D.G. 

Morse code. It was the response. 

Dick followed

Knock. Tap. Tap. Tap. Knock. Knock. Tap. 

B.G.

“Your initials for mine.” Dick had said in breathless excitement. At 16, he was always eager for secret codes, unsaid words, and a billion other new ways to feel the exclusive belonging of being loved. 

“Yours, for mine.” she agreed, smiling and dizzy from the dazzling smile of the boy 2 years her junior. Back then, they had needed a way to set up secret rendezvouses, in the cover of night, at Wayne Manor’s balcony or Jim Gordon’s apartment window. It worked like a charm in mount justice, tapping the air ducts just so, just enough sound so that it carried across the gendered separation of bedrooms; their friends none the wiser of their secret collusion. 

Of course, she remembered their knock. It had been sacred. 

“Then why the battery and assault?” asked the youngest Grayson forcefully. The colors shifted now, hurt leaked into his words like a crack in the levee; a flush of color in his cheeks. He lifted himself up, laying his arms over his knees as he looked down at the woman next to him. A woman who never felt more like a stranger to him than this very moment. 

A beat. Silence. Bated breath in a pregnant pause. 

In the tiniest whisper, Barbara confessed. “I was afraid it was going to happen, again” 

She inhaled sharply, staring at the ceiling and refusing to look him directly in the eye. I can’t cry. She told herself. Not when she had spent years learning how to control herself. Yet, the raw, scraped feeling of being exposed threatened to burst out now. Trauma had a way of turning friends into foes, bastardizing what was once good; pure, and making even the most logical people react to an unnamed fear. A shadow that weighed on their chest like an incubus. The Joker had done this to her, but Dick and everyone once close to her was paying the price. Barbara could only accept that and try to move forward. 

There was no need to explain. The righteous rage dissipated from Dick’s gaze. He understood. He reached out and placed his hand in Barbara’s as she remained on the floor. She had not unclenched her fist, her knuckles white, hands shaking. They stayed that way for minutes. In silence as he rubbed the tension out of the joints of her hand. The texture of his thumb rough against the angles of her hands as they slowly released. Flecks of mud smeared across the lightness of the back of her palm. Dick was filthy. She looked down at his hands, nails embedded in mud around the cuticles, under his nails. Strange

“What happened to you?” asked Barbara, softly, curiously. How did he know where I was? 

“You’re in the phone book,” stated Dick as if reading her mind. He knew her line of inquiry. 

“Oh,” she looked back up at the popcorn texture of her off-white ceiling. It didn’t take the training of the best detective of the world. In fact, it didn’t take anything but a perusal through the yellow pages. She felt stupid. “I’m going need to fix that.” 

But why was he so dirty?

“Can I use your shower?” 

“Yeah- yeah of course Dick” 

***  
Earlier  
*** 

Nightwing had stalked the site of last night’s battle, after the helicopters and the reporters left, after the police filed their initial reports. He had gone looking for something, to find it. 

He moved strangely, erratically with an unbalanced gait that was unbecoming of a born acrobat. The computer in his face mask blinked and stuttered in his field of vision, warning signs flashing but unseen to the hero's’ eyes. 

In the broad daylight, he dug, even as the noon sun beat down on his back. Sweat collected above his brow as he focused on his task for what seemed like hours. The tendrils of heat left its traces across his skin in red blemishes along his shoulder blades and the earth seemed to have swallowed whatever the sun hadn’t touched with clinging soil. He dug himself down into a ditch with furious focus, the hole now about 3 feet deep. Dick gulped down the particles of dust and earth that had ended up in his mouth, he was so thirsty, but he could do that after… after what? 

The thought pierced through the haze that collected in his mind, he blinked back the stinging salt of sweat. It was as if he had just woken up from a dream. Dick looked down at his hands, confused. 

Where am I? 

For the second time that day Dick Grayson found that he had no recollection of the hours previous to this moment of clarity. Searching through his brain felt like wading through molasses, thoughts slow in its viscosity. 

“For God’s sakes I’m still in my underwear” he cursed, wincing against a sharp pain in his head. Filthy from head to toe and waist high in the dirt, he looked around himself. The augmented vision in his left eye from his mask (he silently thanked whatever deity allowed him to keep his anonymity) zoomed in from the map of greater Gotham, placing a pin drop within 100 meters of his current location. He was back at the Safeway site. 

“I was looking for something” he muttered, Words felt like sandpaper against his throat, he was parched. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind kept tugging at him, telling him he forgot something. Something was amiss. 

“Where are my clothes.” The computer in his mask began a search for his bat cycle- it came up with nothing. Didn’t he park just a few yards away? 

Dick stumbled out of the pit and ambled his way over to a major thoroughfare where a group of homeless men huddled around a phone booth. He tore off his face mask, better to be a random homeless kid than a naked hero. Maybe I can bum a shirt off them. He thought irritably to himself. His bike- and his clothes apparently were nowhere to be found. 

“I’m going need to get some help on this.” he thought about Barbara and that kiss. He could very well have found a way home, but maybe an excuse to see her wasn’t implausible. “Might as well find the silver lining right?” His muscles ached, and every moved aggravated what were now severe sunburns on his back and arms. He tried to think critically about the situation as he moved away from the construction site, but it felt like trying to catch smoke. 

A face peered through the spaces of branches near the smoking remains of what would have been a boutique grocery. A sneer, as if slapping the word “organic” made the disgusting practices of big farm corporations any less repulsive. 

“Mammals,” she spat, literal venom dripping in the word. Her visage had a slightly green tinge, unnaturally angular though all together subjectively beautiful in a way that hedges were trimmed for majestic landscapes. The canopy of the old oak tree parted as if by command as she stepped into view, the tree’s side facing the smoking remains of the building’s facade was black and burned. She watched the youth stumble off and away, only a few feet away from her. 

Nature is beautiful. Possible of nearly anything in all its beautiful intricacy and viciousness. The venus fly trap would ensnare its prey in order to absorb the protein needed to flourish. Drakaea, an orchid, mimicked the female form of unsuspecting wasps to seduce them to fertilize and spread its pollen. Then, there was cordyceps. A smile spread across red lips, the color of roses in full bloom, or blood. Cordyceps was in a different category entirely. An entirely different kind of subversion. 

The spores of a cordyceps will infiltrate the body and mind of its prey, influencing its actions, dictating the body to the whim of the fungi’s will. It was beautiful, really, once infected the fungus invades the host’s control center- their brain, and begins to wreak havoc until the host is nothing more than a shell. Then, it bursts from the host’s body and releases spores to infect even more of the target species and the cycle continues. 

The Cordyceps was a genus of ascomycete fungi who were mainly endoparasitoids preying, on earth, on insects and arthropods. From ants to grasshoppers, spiders to wasps, any and all of them had a predatory fungus that was waiting in the wings. Sitting in the shadows, waiting for just the right conditions. Almost every organism had one cordyceps genus that specialized in their demise, every organism except mammals. 

Until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. I was a bit apprehensive about how to move forward, but I realize that it is better to move forward than to stand stuck in the mud. 
> 
> Thank you all, for your Kudos and time. Thank you for reading these things just spring into my mind and I hope you enjoyed this next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that this fic is skewing more toward young justice. but know that I intend to involve more from TTs as Ivy's plot thickens. 
> 
> Please Kudos and Comment, any feedback will be VERY much appreciated.


End file.
